I am getting dumber by the day and its like I’m watching it happen to someone else. I would tell you the stories from todays adventures in the field but I’m not comfortable and its really not fair to the people I work with. It boils down to explaining things that are good for you – to kids – except these are adults and I’m explaining what would be goof for their businesses. Then I usually spend a big chunk of time congratulating them for some rudimentary step in the right direction and take a beating on what my current or past company does and or did wrong. None of this would be bad if any of these guys actually wanted to improve their lives in any way but they want everything to improve without work. It’s awesome. I’m sorry, just feeling a little sorry for myself and the sorry state of my sorry career. sorry I ‘m done with the sorrys.
I just need to work with and around people looking to improve, move forward, build something. I almost think I need more coming at me at once. the slow pace plus the easy work equals stupider stupidtom. [at this point I’m fighting off a strong urge to delete this entire mess and write again when I’m in a better or different mood but rules are rules]
And as I look for things to concentrate on during the day I had imagined a coup (That seems more like a chicken dwelling than the regime change that I’m going for but the squiggly red lines are taunting me so I’ll go with the front end of DeVille) at my local Speedway. I know I spend too much time dwelling my favorite local gas station but you see the same people every week day for seven or eight years and you cant help but develop a bond. The manager, my manager, for the last five of those years has been gone for the past two weeks and I finally thought the little evil gut got him out of the way. But today my main Mahood was back, in charge, and chewing the little evil dude’s ass about the state of the store.
I should let you know that I’m not sure if the man is evil or not but the narrative in my head is written that way so he has been type cast at this point. I have other stories ranging from them being part of a terrorist cell to all of them living a complex alternative octagonal lifestyle. (eight total players in case I lost you) I’m torn about printing those here because I’ve already had a horrible stupidtom confronts real life problem five years ago when one of them uttered “you write about us?” I treated him like the crazy foreigner he was acting like and skedaddled out of there. I hate it when my secret identity bleeds into real life.